I'll Be Watching You
by Lois Lane1
Summary: Ok, I added Chapter three but it doesn't seem to be showing up. Maybe this'll work.
1. I'll Be Watching You

I acknowledge the fact that I do not own any of the characters.  This story is completely fabricated.  Any similarities to any actual event or persons are a mere coincidence.

Thanks for all of the reviews, sorry about the formatting, It was my first fanfic.

I'LL BE WATCHING YOU!

            Dr. Garret Macy looked up from the clip board he was viewing as the elevator dinged, to see his colleague, Jordan Cavanaugh.  She looked worn out and frazzled from lack of sleep.  "Jordan!" Macy commanded, as she dreamily passed by.  "What is wrong with you?"  She looked reluctant to respond. "Let's go into my office" he offered.  Once inside Jordan sighed heavily and nervously paced the office while Macy closed the door behind them.  He looked at her very seriously; saw the wild fear in her bloodshot eyes, and his brow furrowed.  He had never seen Jordan this vulnerable before.  For once she looked…human. 

            "I…I," she stuttered.  "I haven't had much sleep, Garret." By the time his name crossed her lips she had stopped pacing, sunk down on his leather sofa, and buried her face in her hands.  "I'm scared---terrified really!" She squeaked.  He let her continue without a word.  "I've gotten some phone calls; some frightening phone calls. At first it just started as heavy breathing, then it progressed to him saying things like, 'I'll be watching you' and 'I see you'."  Macy shifted uneasily.  This was sending chills up his spine just thinking about it.

            "Have you told the police, they can put a trace on his number, or block it for you!" He said bewildered.  She nodded affirmatively.

            "They've only been able to trace it to phone booths at local gas stations near my house.  They can't stake out every phone booth in Boston to try and catch a guy making crank calls." She said depressed.

            "Jordan! Near your house!  This guy knows where you live!  He could---"

            "I know!" She cut him off. "I know!"

            A knock interrupted her from going into further shrieks.  Nigel popped his head through the door, "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said in his perfect British accent, "but I think you two should take a look at this."

            They followed him into an exam room where there was a cadaver lying on the table.  When Jordan caught sight of the wounds, she gasped.  Not because she wasn't use to seeing this kind of thing, but because she had seen it too often before.  It was a young girl, probably in her early twenties.  She had been strangled by what appeared to be a guitar string.

            Earlier that year they had six girls who were killed in the same way.  Jordan had examined every single one of them and had finally helped put there killer behind bars.  She got so much publicity for it, the rest of the morgue talked about it for weeks.  This was obviously the work of a copy cat.  "Well," she sighed, "better get started."

            The first thing that Jordan did was examine the wound and probable murder weapon.  She concluded that like the six preceding victims, this one was strangled with the string, and died of asphyxia.  She had veticial hemorrhaging behind her eyes which further proved her conclusion. 

 Macy came to see how she was holding up.  He loved to watch Jordan work.  She was always so absorbed in what she was doing that she never noticed anyone come in.  This could also be a dangerous trait, he thought.  His eyes drifted over the corpse and onto the murder weapon that Jordan had painstakingly pulled from around the victim's neck.  There was a yellow tag hanging off the end of it and he assumed Jordan put it there as a marker of some kind.  He picked it up and further examined the cord.  He ran his fingers along the ridges and felt how small it was.  It amazed him that something so fragile could cause such a disaster.  He let his fingers run along the wire until they were caught by the sticky note on the end.  Curious of the label, he pulled his glasses up from around his neck and read the scribble.  _#1 4 U JC was what it read.  "Jordan," he finally said aloud, "what does this mean?" he finished indicated the inscription.  _

"What does what mean?" She retorted, obviously startled by his presence in the otherwise quiet room.

"This label on the wire? Why did you write this?"  He questioned.

"I didn't." she replied flatly and grabbed the cord from his hand.  She read it aloud.  "This doesn't make any sense," she said confused.  She read it over and over in her mind, and then suddenly it clicked.  "J.C. Those are my initials!  Jordan Cavanaugh! Number one for you JC!"  

"Oh, My God!" Macy exclaimed. "Do you think this is the same guy that has been calling you?"

***************************************************************      

Jordan slouched into the Pogue and plunked her tired body on the barstool.  Max Cavanaugh looked at his daughter and grimaced.  "What'll it be little lady?" He asked trying to sound upbeat when his daughter was obviously very weary.  

"Hmmm." She said sleepily. "I guess just get me a dark beer."

"Hey Kevin, get the little lady here a dark!" Max shouted at a young guy Jordan had never seen before.

"Who's he?" she inquired.

"Some kid who came around here asking for a job.  I told him I couldn't pay him much but he insisted."  A shy looking red headed boy of twenty four walked sheepishly in from the kitchen and handed Jordan her beer.  He seemed to blush when her hand accidentally touched his.  Jordan made a mental note of this fact and turned to notice a new costumer entering the almost closing pub.  

It was detective Woody Hoyt, his muscular body framing the doorway.  Jordan scanned him, her eyes moving slowly on his form until she reached his face on which he had an innocent crooked smile.  The sight of him sent chills up her spine and somehow rejuvenated her.  He came up to the bar and put his arm around Jordan as if to claim her.  "Hi" was all he said.  She smirked and pressed her back harder into his arm.  His presence really sent Jordan into a spin, although she would never admit it to anyone else but her diary.  As much as she wanted to pursue a relationship with detective Hoyt, she was too fearful of having her heart broken again. Too many times had she been a victim of casual sex that she deemed as more, or worse, sleeping with the enemy!

"You look tired," Woody interrupted her thoughts.

"I am, a little." She sighed, "I haven't slept much the last few days."

"Anything on your mind?" He inquired. 

"Well, I have been getting some phone calls," She stated wearily.  His eyes showed concern.  She continued, "Some guy keeps leaving me creepy messages. And then today…" she trailed off as she noticed Kevin eavesdropping intently on their conversation. "Let's dance!" She said excitedly as she grabbed his hand and pushed him onto the dance floor.  

Startled by this, Woody began to protest, but a light touch of Jordan's finger across his parted lips, and her quick glance insinuating Kevin's intrusion, made him stop.  Although he was anxious to hear more about the threatening calls, for the moment Woody decided to enjoy himself.  He couldn't stop himself from thinking about Jordan every moment of the day.  She had kissed him that night in the desert, and it felt so right at the time.  Her lips firmly pressed against his, his heart fluttering and his stomach leaving.  He was sure it had meant something, but when she insisted that they forget about it, he decided it had just been a passing moment for her.  He was crushed when she didn't inquire about his thoughts on the matter.

At first he held Jordan's hand in his, and she rested her arm on his shoulder, keeping their distance.  She continued her story about the murdered girl in hushed whispers.  They didn't seem to notice the redhead glaring at them.  Max came out of the kitchen wiping his hands with a dishtowel.  "I'll close up Max!" Said Kevin eagerly, but one glance in the dancing couples direction made Max decide otherwise.

"I think I'll let Jahdan close up tonight." He said in his thick Boston accent.  Kevin looked dejected.  "Maybe another night." He said assuredly.  Kevin nodded, obviously miffed by the last order.

As Max and Kevin opened the door to leave, a cold wind swept through the bar and it made Jordan shiver.  When the door shut, Woody pulled Jordan a little closer to warm her.  This almost made Jordan shiver more, just at his sweet gesture, but soon she was rather warm from the blood rushing to her face.  She wanted to run away, to make more excuses of why she can't be with him, but instead, without thinking, she moved her arms and wrapped both of them around his neck.  Woody shifted his arms to her waist and pulled her yet closer.  She rested her head on his chest for the remainder of the song.  When it finally drifted to a halt, neither of them seemed to notice, and continued to sway to the same beat as before without noticing the lack of music.

As if an alarm had gone off in her head, Jordan jerked her body away from Woody.  He knew it was too good to last long.  He looked in her wide eyes pleadingly as if to say, "don't shut me out".  She choked on something to say.

"I, I uh, have to get up early in the morning." She finally managed to get out.  She couldn't do this!  It was too soon.  All he would do is sleep with her and then avoid her afterwards.  Painfully she peered into his eyes that seemed innocent.

"Ok," he said hesitantly, "I'll help you close up."  He didn't want to push her.  He knew that she didn't feel the same way about him.  She was too scared of getting hurt.  He could not think of a way to express to her that he would never hurt her if he could help it.

***********************************************************************

Jordan unlatched the many different locks she had on her apartment door and cautiously pushed it open.  She actually had to admit to herself that she was scared.  She lived alone, and loved it, but she always seemed to have some psycho killer after her.  Her flat appeared just the way she had left it.  Relief filled her head and lightened her heart.  _What I need is a good night's sleep, she thought to herself.  __But first a shower.  _

As the hot water spilled over her aching muscles she tried not to think about Woody.  It had felt so incredible to dance with him tonight.  To have his strong arms around her, making her feel….safe.  What was she going to do?  The thought of their kiss was still lingering on her lips and made the blood rush to her face once more.  _I just really need to relax_, she thought, _maybe I'll play my guitar a little before bed._  The image of the girl with the chord through her neck snapped in her head._ On second thought, maybe not._

            She turned off the shower and stepped out on to the mat, drenching it with water and reached for her towel.  As she did, she thought she heard a noise.  Her blood froze in her veins, preventing her from moving.  Her breath came quick and her pulse was frantic.  What could she do?  Lock herself in the bathroom? No, that definitely wouldn't work.  She kept picturing herself with a guitar string around her neck. 

            Peering out of the bathroom and into her bedroom she quickly scanned the room.   Nothing out of the ordinary.  She listened as hard as she could but couldn't hear anything else, the apartment was perfectly quiet.  _Why am I scarring myself like this?, she thought. __It was probably just something outside. Still, she grabbed the baseball bat from the corner of her room and took it with her into the living room.  No one there either, window shut, door locked.  However, an ominous feeling still loomed over her head so she picked up the phone.  _

"I'll just call Woody for some company," she announced aloud half trying to convince herself that she wasn't scared.  She clicked the talk button, dialed his number by memory and put the phone up to her ear but there was no dial tone.  "That's funny." She said nervously, and went to the cradle of the phone.  Her eyes followed the chord to where it was suppose to be plugged into the wall.  She frantically picked it up and found the severed end.  Next to the plug was a disturbingly familiar yellow sticky note, it read: "So you don't like the phone calls?  Oh well, I guess we'll have to meet in person." __

To be continued………………sorry it was late or uh early in the morning, and I had to go to bed.


	2. It's All For You

Chapter 2

The pounding on the door at 2 a.m. jolted Woody from his restless sleep.  He ran to the door and flung it open to catch Jordan in his arms. She clung to him like she was a child being chased by an imaginary monster. "Jordan are you ok? What happened?"  He asked sincerely.  

"My phone lines were cut…and he left a note.  Woody he was in my house!" By the time she got the last proclamation out she was in tears.

"Shh, shh, Jordan it's ok." He said holding her tight. "I'm here now, you're safe." He took her small duffle bag from her hands and set it in his bedroom. He looked at Jordan who was now sitting on his couch rubbing her eyes.  She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.  Woody cursed himself for not asking her to stay the night when they were in the Pogue.  Why hadn't he seen how scared she was.  "I'm gonna go fix some coffee." He announced as he headed into the kitchen. 

"I'm going to put a watch out on your apartment tomorrow morning---" he started when he came back into the room with two steaming mugs in his hands, but he was stopped short when he saw that Jordan was fast asleep on the couch.  He conscientiously set the mugs on the coffee table and then reached over to stroke her cheek lightly.  His finger gently traced the outline of her face and he longed to kiss her, instead he just sighed in frustration and scooped her up in his arms.  He carried her into his bedroom and slid her under the covers, thankful that she was already wearing pajamas.  He moved quietly to the couch where he fell into yet another uneasy sleep.

************************************************************************

Jordan was dreaming. She had to be.  She was running from her apartment to Woody's but was snatched from behind and pushed down to the pavement.  She fought with all her might but seemed to get no where, and tried to scream but nothing would come out. _Please, please,_ she thought, _let me get to Woody._  In the midst of her struggle, a sharp wire appeared around her throat and cut into her.  She couldn't stop thinking that Woody would never know how she felt before she died, a victim just like the many she worked on every day.  Now it would be her on the table with the y-incision, being sliced opened and examined, and not able to tell the doctors what had happened, to tell them who had killed her.  All she could hope for was that the evidence would speak for itself.  _Woody, help me! She thought over and over.  And then suddenly the killer was gone and Woody was holding her in his sturdy arms rocking her back and forth._

"Jordan, it's ok, I'm here! Jordan wake up!" He commanded. Her eyes snapped open and she realized that she was crying.

"Oh God, Woody!  He had me and he was strangling me and I couldn't scream I couldn't find you….to tell you…" she was stifled by sobs and sunk her face into his brawny chest.  He held her tightly. "Please, don't leave me!" She cried against his tense body.  

"I'm not going anywhere." He assured her as he settled in against the headboard pulling her closely to him.

The sun peeked from under the curtain as Jordan's eyes fluttered open the next morning.  She felt more rested and stretched, reaching for Woody but he was not to be found.  She crawled out of bed and ventured into the living room where she found him on the phone.  "Yeah, okay, I'll tell her, yeah thanks Jim." He looked up concerned and sighed.  "I had some guys go check out your apartment this morning, they found the door broken into and your apartment is in shambles.

Jordan's breath came quickly and she thought she was going to faint.  _What if she had decided to stay the night at home? She would have been killed!_  Her knees began to buckle and the floor became nearer as her vision was blurred.  Woody grabbed her before she hit the ground and this brought her back into reality.

            Nervous but showered and more rested than before, Jordan returned to the morgue that morning where yet another body was waiting for her.  It was another female victim with another familiar musical cord sliced through her neck.  Chills ran up and down Jordan's spine as she reached for the yellow sticky note attached to the end of the string.  "You weren't at home so I had to leave you a message; maybe I'll catch you later." She dropped the note and watched it as it fluttered to the ground.  Garret witnessed this as he walked in the crypt. "Jordan what's wrong?" He inquired.

            "He's doing this for me!" She squeaked. "I'm responsible for this!"

            "Jordan don't be ridiculous!" Garret assured her. And then he picked up the note.  Remembering that her house was broken into he put a comforting arm around her shoulders.  "Why would someone do this?"  He questioned.

            "I don't know." She sighed and then brought a hand to her mouth as a thought struck her.  Quickly she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Woody's, who was still at her house surveying the damage and collecting evidence.

            "Hoyt." Came the answer.

            "Woody!  I need you to do something for me!  Find my guitar!"

            "Sure," he answered unsure of what she was getting at.  He analyzed the room and found it propped in the corner of her living room.  He picked it up. "Jordan, it's here, but there aren't any strings on it." He said matter of factly.

            "Oh my God!" Jordan exasperated.  "Woody, look for a yellow sticky note anywhere on the guitar…look carefully.

            Woody examined the outside of the instrument and found nothing. He was about to give her an answer when something bright caught his eye from the hole in the guitar's body.  He reached inside and pulled out a yellow sticky note. It read: "It's all for you, find me or I'll find you."

Sorry it's so short but it's all I have time for right now.


	3. Dishing it Out

Chapter 3

Ok! Ok! I know I'm a total schmuck for not updating in like years but here goes. I even had to reread the beginning of the story so that I would know what was going on.

The candle light flickered in her eyes and made them dance. All Woody could do was stare hopelessly at her as she picked at her food. "You know this is not your fault, Jordan." He stated finally breaking the silence. "This guy is just insane and there is nothing that you could do different."

"I could find him." She stated matter-of-factly. She didn't even look up. With a final scrape of her knife she stood up and began gathering the finished plates and utensils.

"You don't have to do that." Woody said appalled at the feminine gesture. "I'll clean up later."   
"No, thanks, I need something to do while I think." She replied whisking the dishes away to the sink. She began to run the hot water and squirted it with the dish soap. Staring at her own reflection in the rainbow touched water she couldn't help but wonder if this could be her life. The wife who cooks and cleans and loves her husband, but who also happens to have her own career that takes all of her time, surely not.

But to have him come up behind her and wrap his arms around her trapping her between himself and the sink the way her dad use to do her mother, softly kissing her neck the way he was doing now. _The way he was doing now!?!_ She suddenly became very aware that she was reacting to an actual stimulus instead of a dream. Between the gentle kisses he planted on her neck he murmured, "I know you're scared, Jordan, but I'm here" and then continued to caress her neck. Every breath that he released sent chills up her spine. Slowly they swayed, both feeling that if they weren't facing each other, that it might not really be happening. He moved from the crook of her neck to the special spot right under her ear and it sent her head spinning. _This shouldn't be happening._ She thought._ This CAN'T be happening. _But instead of running away she turned around and kissed him senseless.

The force of the kiss knocked him off balance and sent him crashing into the wall behind him. Jordan was not far behind and pinned him against the wall with another kiss. She felt exhilarated from taking charge and it fueled her desire even more. Coming up for air and breaking the passion, breathlessly heaving Woody questions, " I thought we weren't gonna talk about this anymore."

Playfully Jordan retorted, "This isn't exactly talking, cowboy." Before finding his mouth again.

Never in his whole life had his body been on fire for someone. He felt every little touch as if it were a thousand needles sticking in him at once. The sheer force of it all made his head ring. _Wait, that's the phone ringing._ He thought he had said it aloud, but the kissing didn't cease. "Jordan, the phone." He managed.


End file.
